Gratitude (Jedi Master Eeth Koth & Padawan Lakhri Tumuel)
by Livia Yoran
Summary: Eeth is training his first padawan and they were off to a rocky start. Eeth has to learn that being a master means more than being a disciplinarian, and he will have to earn back Lakhri's trust. Warning: Contains physical punishment of a minor by an adult. This is fiction, not parenting advice. Don't like, don't read.
1. Chapter 1

Eeth had just returned from a workout, had taken a shower, got dressed and was currently sitting on his bed and combing his hair when he heard the doors to their quarters swish open.

"Padawan?" he called questioningly, wondering why in the Force's name Lakhri was back from school this early, and rose from his bed. Instead of an answer, he just heard the angry banging of a cupboard door. He made for the common room, but had hardly opened the door before he came face-to-face (or, rather, face-to-navel) with a teenager who was holding a cane in his right hand, a data pad in his left and was glaring up at him in a mixture of anger and defiance. It was not that Eeth was unused to seeing such an expression on his padawan's face, per se, but in this particular instance, he truly and honestly had no idea what had caused it. He opted for a neutral opening statement that would hopefully prompt Lakhri to explain.

"You are home early," he said calmly.

"Yes, because I _cheated_ on my astrophysics exam," Lakhri spat out. He held out the data pad to Eeth. "Here. Do you want to read it first or will you get it over with and cane me right away?"

Eeth frowned. Cheating was unlike Lakhri, and besides, he had always had excellent marks in astrophysics. What was more, if he was really guilty of cheating, then why all this anger?

"I will do neither the one nor the other," he replied evenly. "At least not before I have heard from you what happened. First of all, though, put the cane away. I will be the one to decide if and when to use it. Not you."

"What's the bloody point?" Lakhri nearly yelled, his face flushing an angry red. "Knight Chorchin has all the proof, so I've been cheating on an exam, so we both know you are going to cane me anyway. He's a teacher and I'm just a lousy padawan. Even if I tried to make excuses, nobody in their right mind would buy them. Read the damn note already, take the cane and get. it _. fucking._ OVER! WITH!"

Eeth's face darkened considerably.

"I do not appreciate being yelled at, and you can dispense with the attitude and the curses, too," he said in a low, stern voice. "I gave you an order. Put the cane away, and then tell me what happened."

"It's all in that note. Just read it," Lakhri snapped, throwing the data pad at him. Eeth deliberately refrained from catching it. It bounced off his chest and onto the floor.

"Put the cane away and tell me what happened," he repeated his order in a tone of voice that clearly indicated he was not going to say this a fourth time.

Lakhri pursed his lips.

"No," he ground out, glaring at Eeth and clutching the cane as tightly as he could. Eeth barely resisted the temptation of turning Lakhri over his knee there and then. From the stubborn set of his padawan's jaw, Eeth could see that they were close to entering one of those contests of wills that had a tendency to turn extremely ugly. A few weeks ago, he would almost certainly have spanked Lakhri until he achieved compliance. Unfortunately, Lakhri was extremely stubborn and it took a lot of spanking to force him to comply with an order he did not want to comply with. What was worse, this method reliably caused resentment, more than acceptance, in Lakhri, and that, Eeth assumed, was not going to help matters right now. One of the things his master had recently said to him kept coming back to Eeth: „Setting firm boundaries and enforcing them consistently will prevent many problems, but there are problems such an approach cannot solve, and some will be made even worse." Lakhri tended to put on a tough façade when his feelings were hurt, but that did not necessarily mean that a tough treatment was what he needed.

With this in mind, Eeth knelt down and looked his padawan in the eyes.

"I might not be the most sympathetic and understanding of masters," he said quietly, "and I know I am an exceedingly strict one. But I would never, ever want to punish you for something you did not do. And therefore, I refuse to punish you for any kind of infraction I did not witness with my own eyes unless I have heard your side of the story. As you do not seem to be able to talk to me in a civil way, I want you to put it down in writing. We can continue this discussion when you have finished your task."

He rose, put a hand on Lakhri's shoulder and steered the boy towards his room, momentarily ignoring the fact that his padawan was still clutching the cane he had repeatedly been told to put away. Lakhri was too stunned at having been talked to in such a… well, respectful and outright caring manner by his master, instead of finding himself at the receiving end of a spanking, paddling or caning, to offer much resistance. Eeth put a data pad on Lakhri's desk and said: "I will be waiting for you in the common room. Take as much time as you need. I will not read your teacher's note until I have read yours."

Lakhri was still too perplexed to be able to offer any kind of response, and Eeth did not seem to expect any. He left the room and closed the door behind himself while his padawan was staring after him, wide-eyed. The twelve-year-old was not sure what he had expected, but not this. Well, actually, that was not quite true; he had entirely expected Eeth to mete out the worst possible kind of punishment, and maybe a bit more for the way that Lakhri had vented at him. Instead, Eeth had practically told him he valued his point of view so much that he would not proceed without it! True, a few weeks ago, the man had apologised to him for often having been overly harsh, apparently after Lakhri's grandmaster had had a talk with him, and he had indeed made more of an effort lately to be nice, in his own, awkward kind of way; but broken trust was difficult to repair, and Lakhri would never in a million years have expected Eeth not to immediately seize the opportunity of siding with a teacher against him.

He suddenly realised that Eeth had given him a job to do, and he somehow did not feel like defying is master any longer. With a resigned sigh, he dropped the cane onto the bed and plopped down onto his desk chair. Words came easily to him, and he was soon writing diligently – and truthfully.

 _When we were sitting in the exam room waiting for the teacher_ , his letter went, _one of my classmates, who was sitting across the aisle, told me he was in terrible trouble because he hated the subject, had not studied for the exam and had deceived his master over the fact. He asked whether I could help in some way. I told him that there was no way I was going to risk attracting my master's wrath over cheating in an exam. He said he'd make sure I wouldn't be caught. I said he was delusional. Before we could say any more, our teacher arrived and asked for silence. It all went well for over an hour, and I was concentrating on my exam when suddenly a data pad landed on my table with a clang from across the aisle. Our teacher was at the other side of the room, and I saw him start to turn around. I only had a split-second to make a decision and more out of instinct than anything else, I took the data pad and put it in my pocket, intending to just hand it back to my classmate once the exam was over. However, Knight Chorchin had seen. He ordered me to hand him the data pad. I did. I also tried to explain, but he cut short my explanations and said he had seen enough. Honestly, I don't even have an idea what was on that data pad, but Knight Chorchin escorted me to the front of the room, wrote a note to you, ordered me to give it to you and told me I'd failed my exam and that he trusted my master knew how to deal with such a serious transgression. I tried again to explain, but that only made him angry, and he refused to listen. He just threw me out of the room, threatening that if I did not let the others finish the exam in peace, he was going to personally paddle me before sending me home to you. That is about all I can tell you about the incident._

Lakhri reread what he had written and thought for a moment. Then he wrote a few more lines:

 _Thank you for asking for my point of view, master. I don't know if you'll believe me, but in any case, I apologise for having yelled at you and disobeyed you. I should not have taken my anger out on you. Sorry._

He assumed that his master would scoff at these lines and ignore them, but he still felt better for having written them. Besides, he wasn't at all sure what to expect any longer. For the first time since having been made Eeth's apprentice, he had, for a moment, actually had the feeling that the man cared about him. He was wary of trusting that feeling, but on the other hand, it felt too good to dismiss it outright.

Given his general confusion, it was a rather apprehensive padawan who made his way to the common room in order to hand Eeth his data pad. Besides, he was suddenly acutely aware that he had behaved quite abominably before being sent to his room and that Eeth had been remarkably lenient with him, which was kind of unsettling in itself. It was with that thought in mind that he decided to take the cane with him. He quietly entered the common room and returned the cane to the cupboard. Then he handed the data pad to his master who was sitting at the dining table and giving him an inscrutable look.

"Here you are, master," Lakhri said in a small voice.

"Thank you, padawan," Eeth said calmly, accepting the data pad. "Sit down."

Lakhri complied and waited for Eeth to finish reading, his apprehension rising with every moment.

Eeth perused the contents of the data pad, then studied Lakhri's anxious face for a few moments. He could sense no trace of deception in his apprentice; not that he had expected anything else. The way Lakhri had acted had quite plainly shown him that the boy felt betrayed, not merely afraid of a well-deserved punishment.

"Padawan," Eeth said softly, "thank you for putting this into writing. Now, first of all, I believe you. Second…"

But before he could continue with his second point, Lakhri blurted incredulously: "You do?"

"Of course I do," Eeth said a tad more sternly. "Do not interrupt me."

Taking in Lakhri's flabbergasted look, he softened his tone of voice a little.

"You are my padawan, Lakhri," he said quietly. "As long as I have no evidence to the contrary, I will always trust you to tell me the truth, just as you can rely on me being honest with you. And you have done nothing to shake that trust so far. Besides, you are neither that good an actor nor are your shields good enough to deceive me over a lie on that scale. So, yes, I believe you. Now may I continue?"

Lakhri blushed, but he could not quite prevent a small smile from creeping onto his face. "Yes, master," he replied as contritely as he was able to, given his near exhilaration about the fact that his master actually trusted him!

"Good," Eeth said evenly. "Second, I am going to talk to Knight Chorchin about this issue and resolve it. Rest assured that you will not receive a fail grade on your exam."

"But he won't believe you," Lakhri said doubtfully. "I mean, he saw me pocket the data pad. That was proof enough to him."

Eeth raised his eyebrows. "When I tell you that you are not going to receive a fail grade for this exam, this is exactly what is going to happen," he replied somewhat severely. "How I am going to achieve this need not concern you. Now, as to my third point: thank you for your apology. I accept it, but, and that is my fourth point, we both know that yelling at me, cursing, pulling an attitude and disobeying my instructions repeatedly is utterly and completely unacceptable. I know that you were upset, but there are more constructive ways of dealing with such feelings than throwing a tantrum and behaving in a manner unworthy of a Jedi padawan. I do not have the slightest intention of punishing you for anything related to the exam, but I will make sure you think twice before next taking your anger out on me or other persons instead of releasing it into the Force or seeking help. What is more, we have talked about this issue before, and you really know better than to behave like this. Come here."

In a way, Lakhri felt a little relieved. What he had just witnessed was a different, and much improved, version of the master he had known, but it was obvious that some things had not changed. Unfortunately, he suspected that the same was true for the level of discomfort Eeth's punishments tended to cause; his master did not subscribe to the concept of "mild spankings". Nevertheless, his gratefulness and relief currently outweighed his apprehension, even as he undid his pants, dropped them to his ankles, bared his bottom and awkwardly climbed over Eeth's lap. The first swat, however, made all feelings of relief evaporate instantly. It was delivered by Eeth's hand, without the use of an implement, which was a first; but that did not mean it was any less painful.

"Ouch!" he yelped, trying futilely to twist out of harm's way, but the only reward for his efforts was a second swat.

"You do not throw a fit of temper if you feel unjustly treated," Eeth said sternly, meting out a third swat.

"No, master," Lakhri hastened to assure him. This was a first, too; up to now, Eeth's spankings had made him defiant and resentful more often than not. His compliance did not seem to buy him any favors, though; Eeth only provided him with more of those hefty swats, scolding while he spanked: "You do not curse or yell at me, you do not disobey my instructions, and you do not tell me what to do and not to do."

"No, master!" Lakhri yelped. "Ouch! I won't! Oww! I gottit! Owwww!"

His yelps became ever more enthusiastic, and his legs started kicking of their own accord; but Eeth was thorough, and Lakhri was sobbing long before he was finished.

When he had dealt out the last swat and Lakhri's backside was painted an angry red, Eeth let him cry for a moment, then did something he had never done before: He pulled Lakhri up into a kneeling position and allowed him to rest his head against his chest. This did not quite amount to a hug, but it came closer to one than anything he had allowed to happen previously. Lakhri found the position oddly comforting and enjoyed it for a minute or so. However, he assumed it must be awkward for Eeth and therefore tried to pull himself together as fast as he could, given the state of his burning backside.

Finally, having wiped his eyes and blown his nose into a handkerchief that Eeth had handed him, Lakhri slid off his master's lap.

"I'm sorry," he said again in a small, contrite voice.

"As I said before, I accept your apology," Eeth replied surprisingly gently. "And now, if you will excuse me, I will seek out your teacher and talk to him."

Lakhri pondered whether he should ask his master to take him, but on second thought, he had no desire to see Knight Chorchin again in a hurry. He was just going to risk losing his temper again, and his backside was sore enough already.

"Good luck, master," he said instead, and there was just a hint of cheekiness in his voice. He had always been a resilient person.

Eeth smiled a little at Lakhri's response. "Luck has little to do with it," he replied. "You say you did not cheat, and I believe you. That will have to be good enough for Knight Chorchin."

And it must have been because the man sought Lakhri out that same afternoon to apologise for accusing him of cheating without having heard him out. It appeared that Lakhri's fellow student, angry at having his request for help refused, had tried to set him up – and had nearly succeeded. Lakhri, Knight Chorchin said, could take the exam again the following day. That was good, but it was not the important thing to Lakhri. The important thing was that his master trusted him. For the first time in his padawanhood, he had well and truly felt that his master had been on his side. And that made him happier than he could express, despite his smarting bottom. Well, he assumed that Eeth did not care for expressions of happiness anyway; at the very least, they would make the man feel awkward. Still, he felt as if he owed his master something, and he thought hard about how to convey this feeling without sounding as if he wanted a cuddle.

When a few hours later, Eeth and he knelt down to do their evening meditation, he asked shyly: "Master? Would you mind terribly if I set the theme for tonight's meditation?"

Eeth look at him in surprise for a moment. So far, he had always been the one to determine the type and theme of their joint meditations; it had never occurred to him that Lakhri might want to have a say in this. Suddenly, he painfully realised that this had been rather selfish of him.

"I would not mind at all, padawan," he said gently. "What would you like to meditate on?"

Lakhri gulped and lowered his gaze. "Gratitude," he whispered, his ears burning with embarrassment.

Eeth was silent for a moment; he felt unaccountably touched, even if it did not show in his impassive face. Then he nodded, almost imperceptibly, closed his eyes and opened his shields, inviting Lakhri to link with him.

Meditating with Eeth had always been the most satisfying experience his padawanship had to offer to Lakhri, but tonight's meditation was special in ways he could not really explain. Contrary to what he had expected, Eeth did not limit himself to creating a space in which Lakhri could reflect his own feelings of gratitude, be it towards his master or others. He took the matter much more seriously than that, making this meditation's theme his own, not just Lakhri's. It turned out that there seemed to be much he felt grateful for, which surprised Lakhri who had always considered the man rather self-sufficient, even haughty. And Eeth shared these feelings with Lakhri more readily than his padawan would ever have expected him to. He had never felt so close to the man and so much at peace with his padawanhood.

When they finally resurfaced from their trance, there was a brief silence; both were wrapped up in their own thoughts.

"Thank you, master," Lakhri finally said, looking up at his master's face. Suddenly, and perhaps for the first time, it looked like a real person's face to him, not like a mask. Maybe his master was a real person after all, not just some distant, formidable and slightly terrifying authority figure. Maybe, just maybe his master even cared for him a little.

"You are welcome, padawan," Eeth replied softly, reading at least part of his thoughts. "You are very welcome."


	2. Chapter 2

Lakhri came home from school, a spring in his step. He had received an A+ in his advanced Bocce exam, the first grade of the kind that his teacher had ever handed out to any student since Lakhri had started studying with her fourteen months ago. It was true that he had always been good at languages. Right after having been made a padawan, he had taken the usual placement tests. He had done so well at Bocce that he had been the only twelve-year-old who was allowed to enrol in the advanced-level Bocce class, or any advanced language class, for that matter. Eeth had not commented on that fact at the time; he had merely registered Lakhri not only for advance Bocce, but also for intermediate Huttese and Iridonian Zabrak for beginners. Lakhri had not been asked for his opinion on this, nor had he dared to offer it on his own accord. He had not minded that much; he was good at all academic subjects and he really did like learning languages. Advanced Bocce was hard work, though. During the first year of his padawanhood, he had really struggled to keep up and had only just managed a B average. He was all the more pleased with the stellar result he had been informed of today.

As the door to their quarters swished open, he found Eeth setting the table for lunch. An enticing smell wafted out of the kitchen. Lakhri, who was nearly always hungry, felt his mouth water. His master, terrifying though he might be at most times, was a rather good cook. Still, Lakhri restrained himself and remembered to mind his manners because anything else would surely earn him a stern reprimand.

"Master," he said formally, bowing in greeting.

"Padawan," said Eeth, inclining his head. "Wash your hands. Lunch is nearly ready."

Eeth found that he enjoyed cooking meals for the two of them these days. He had always liked cooking and was fairly proficient at it but he had to concede that for some strange reason, it was more rewarding to cook for Lakhri than it had been to cook for himself when he had been living alone. The boy seemed to like most everything that Eeth prepared and usually tucked in with gusto.

Lakhri carefully hung up his cloak and put his boots away. He always felt like flinging them into a corner instead but he knew from experience what Eeth thought of that. It was not worth copping a paddling over. He brought his school bag into his room, washed his hands and came to the kitchen.

"I got the results of my advanced Bocce exam," he told Eeth, quite excited.

"I know," Eeth said drily. "They were sent to my terminal this morning." And that was all he said.

Lakhri sighed. "Alright, then," he said, plopping down onto a chair. He felt as if someone had piqued the balloon of happiness inside him and all the air was evaporating.

Eeth paid him no mind at first. However, as he came to the table with a pot of stew in his hands and saw his padawan sitting there dejectedly, he suddenly realised that this conversation might not have gone as Lakhri had hoped. Apparently, this was one of the occasions at which praise might have been in order.

"I congratulate you on your A+," he said a little stiffly.

"Thanks," Lakhri said unenthusiastically. Eeth wanted to say more but he had no clear idea what kind of statement could conceivably make their ruined conversation any better. So he committed their dialogue to memory and did what he frequently did in such situations: he called his master, after lunch, when Lakhri was busy doing homework.

"Oh, Eeth," said Fenya, exasperated. "He got an A+ in his advanced Bocce class and you didn't even let him tell you?"

"Why should I have?" asked Eeth, puzzled. "I already knew."

"That's completely and entirely beside the point," said Fenya sternly. "Stop thinking of yourself all the time and start thinking of your padawan for a change."

That had stung. Eeth stared at her, unsure whether he ought to feel chastened or offended.

"Look," said Fenya patiently. "Lakhri was so proud to even be admitted to that class. He was really struggling at first. Instead of encouraging him, you constantly admonished him to study more – which he did. Which is an accomplishment in itself for a boy his age. And for him to get an A+ in an advanced language class is a real achievement. I don't think you ever did, quite frankly."

To Eeth's dismay, he realised that this was true. He had generally had near-perfect grades, but he could not recall ever having achieved an A+ in an advanced language class. It occurred to him that Lakhri might actually have more of a talent for learning languages than he did, which was an idea that might need some getting used to. But it was not an idea that Eeth resented; he tried hard to be fair, after all, and honest with himself, too.

"No, I did not," he agreed with Fenya's statement. "But what has this got to do with Lakhri and how our talk went?"

"Everybody wants to feel good about themselves every once in a while," Fenya explained. "And I know we've been through this before. In this case, Lakhri actually did something that he deserves to feel good about. He put in a huge amount of work and earned a fantastic grade."

"Yes, I know," said Eeth. "So why could he not simply feel good about the grade? Why did he need me for this?"

Fenya closed her eyes briefly, a sure sign of serious exasperation.

"Eeth, for the Force's sake!" she snapped. "You. are. his. master. Get that into your thick head! He needs _you_ to feel proud of him every once in a while because you are important to him. And, no, this is neither silly nor stupid, this is how people work. Especially children and adolescents. He needs recognition from you. Some sign of approval, or maybe even praise when he deserves it, wouldn't come amiss either. Is that really too much to ask?"

"I did congratulate him on his mark," Eeth pointed out, a little hurt.

"Knowing you, you probably managed to make that sound like a chore you had to perform," said Fenya. " If you can't make your congratulations sound heartfelt, you'll need to find some other way to show him that you appreciate his efforts and achievements. You can't just limit yourself to scolding or punishing him whenever he does something wrong or slacks off."

"He rarely slacks off, as a matter of fact," Eeth remarked.

"I know, and like I said, that's actually quite a feat for a boy his age," said Fenya. "I know you wouldn't find it remarkable, given that you don't even know the meaning of 'slacking off,' but you're exceedingly lucky to have found such a diligent padawan. Start showing it to him, one way or another. If you don't, he's going to look for other ways to push you for a reaction. We've been there. It wasn't pretty and you should really try to avoid a repeat occurrence."

Eeth frowned in thought. He could not quite see why someone would want praise for something that was expected of him. After all, studying hard was what a padawan was supposed to do. But he knew that his master had a much better grasp of how people worked than he did, and listening to her advice had always served him well.

As he led Lakhri through kata practice a little while later, Eeth was unusually preoccupied although he took care not to let it show. How could he find a way to show Lakhri his approval that would not seem awkward and insincere? He was obviously not good at handing out verbal praise. His master had told him to find his own way to reward Lakhri for his accomplishments. What way might that be, though? He probably ought to allow Lakhri to do something that he enjoyed, such as going out with his friends or… No, that was not right, Eeth decided. He needed to do something together with Lakhri, else it would come across as if he did not want to spend time with the boy. But what activity would Lakhri enjoy that Eeth would not mind indulging in? Eeth was hardly the type to visit pod races or, Force forbid, pop concerts! And he had no idea whether Lakhri even liked those kinds of things.

Only when they had finished their workout and Lakhri surreptitiously snuck an energy bar out of his gym bag, taking a bite, did inspiration hit Eeth.

"Padawan, take a shower and get dressed," he told Lakhri. "We will drop off our gym bags at our quarters. Then we will go out."

"Alright," Lakhri said, a little surprised. Usually, Eeth laid out their plans for the day precisely and succinctly during breakfast. Maybe some appointment had come up in the meanwhile?

"Where are we going to?" he asked. "A reception at an Embassy?" That was the most common reason for them to leave the Temple at night. Lakhri knew, by now, that Eeth did not mind him asking such things. It had taken him a long time to work up the courage to try, though. His first half year or so with his master had been horribly awkward because Eeth had never volunteered information and Lakhri had been too much in awe of him to ask. Thankfully, they were past that stage by now.

"No reception, nor any other official function," replied Eeth. "You will see."

This piqued Lakhri's curiosity. Eeth had taken him into the city fairly frequently, but rarely for anything that was not an official function. The only exceptions, so far, had been educational: a couple of exhibitions and a number of training sessions meant to help Lakhri develop his skills at navigating a city, concealing his presence and such things. Those had actually been quite fun but Lakhri had been careful not to voice that fact because Eeth clearly disapproved of the entire concept of "fun." In any case, his master had never been all mysterious about these training sessions, like he was now. Lakhri had no idea what was going on here but he was keen to find out. It was clear that Eeth did not want to tell him before they got there, though. So Lakhri got into the speeder that Eeth picked from the garage and looked out the window as they made their way into Coruscant's crowded traffic lanes at dusk. Eeth was taking them out of the Senate District, he noticed. They were driving east. Lakhri had a good understanding of Coruscant's geography. He knew that the sector they were heading for was a commercial area, but not an upscale one. It was not particularly seedy either, though; it mostly hosted small shops and businesses, a lot of them run by recent immigrants. The overall effect was very lively and colorful. That suited Lakhri just fine.

After a twenty-minute drive, Eeth parked the speeder and took Lakhri down a sidewalk to a wide entrance that was girded by neon signs in a script Lakhri did not recognise.

Lakhri stepped through the entrance behind Eeth and stopped in surprise. His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open. He was facing the largest buffet he had ever seen. There were no hovertrays, spinning hoverdisks or conveyor belts as he had seen in fancier restaurants. There were simply rows upon rows of tables laden with the most diverse and colorful choice of food he had ever seen. Customers were sitting on a gallery, overlooking the buffet and occasionally serving themselves. It was crowded, noisy and cheerful. To Lakhri, who was nearly always hungry, it looked like paradise.

"This is a Careenian restaurant," said Eeth. "Careenia is a small colony on the Outer Rim. Recently, one of their continents was struck by a natural disaster. Some of the survivors decided to leave the planet and try their luck elsewhere. Scores of them ended up on Coruscant and some opened restaurants. For obvious reasons, they became an immediate success. I predict that in a few years, they will be all over the place, including the fancy districts."

While he talked, he guided Lakhri to the stairs and upwards to the gallery where they found one of the few tables that were still free. A small and squat waiter came to serve them. He was black as coal and had three eyes. Lakhri had never seen his species before; Careenian, probably. Each of them were handed a tray and told to serve themselves at the buffet. The waiter also placed a jug of water and two cups on the table. Eeth asked for a cup of Careenian tea. Lakhri, who did not like tea as much as his master did, peered at the other tables and noticed that some of the customers were drinking tall glasses of what appeared to be a mix of fruit juices.

"Umm, master?" Lakhri ventured, gathering his courage. "Might I have some juice?"

He had eaten out with Eeth before, nearly every time they went into the city. So far, Eeth had always placed the orders and Lakhri had never dared to intervene. Besides, Eeth had excellent taste and Lakhri had usually liked the food he had chosen. For drinks, it had always been just water and tea. This time, though, Lakhri had the vague feeling that Eeth was offering him a treat, unbelievable though it might seem. If that was the case, there might just be a glass of juice in it for him!

"Yes, of course," said Eeth, looking slightly surprised at Lakhri's request, but not in a disapproving kind of way. "Order whatever you like." On an afterthought, he added: "As long as it is not alcoholic."

Now that was offensive. Lakhri snorted. "As if I would order alcoholic drinks!" he said. "I know what they would do to my Force awareness. Besides, I'm underage to drink them. Master, honestly, I'm not stupid." Nor was he suicidal; the thought alone of what Eeth would say if he caught him drinking alcohol was enough to make him wince!

Eeth was silent for a moment. It was true, he realised; Lakhri did not usually do stupid things just in order to prove himself. When he got into trouble, it was over his temper, his revengeful streak or his tendency to let his mouth run away with him. Not over breaking rules just to prove himself. Eeth had never really noticed that. He supposed he should have.

"No," he said unusually gently. "You are not stupid at all." Lakhri could not help it, he had to grin at hearing that. And Eeth found himself smiling as well.

So they ordered juice and then went to serve themselves at the buffet. Lakhri honestly thought he had never stuffed himself like this in his life. The food was delicious and he wanted to try every dish. A few were too hot for his liking. Those were the ones that Eeth seemed to particularly enjoy. They were eating in silence at first, but it was a fairly comfortable silence. Then they started exchanging remarks on dishes they liked. Eeth told Lakhri more about the ingredients and methods of preparation of which he seemed to be surprisingly well-informed. At some point, Lakhri got him to tell him the story of a mission he had undertaken as a young knight where he had worked as a chef in a Corellian restaurant. Lakhri hadn't known this about his master. Most of the information he had about Eeth came from Fenya, after all, and therefore concerned Eeth's padawanhood. It felt good to hear Eeth tell him something about himself. The whole evening felt good, for that matter. Eeth had never done anything like this with him before. Lakhri assumed that this was his way of showing that he valued Lakhri's achievement, after all. And Lakhri was not about to complain!

Long after Eeth had stopped eating, Lakhri still went for more. He kept throwing furtive looks at his master, trying to determine whether he disapproved or might be impatient to leave. He didn't appear to be, though. He merely nodded at Lakhri to go ahead and serve himself. Obviously, he had really made up his mind to indulge Lakhri and now he was taking the time his padawan needed to eat his fill, which was quite a lot of time. Even Lakhri's appetite was not endless, though. Finally, he sank back into his chair with a sigh.

"I don't think I've hated saying anything this much since Knight M'Namen made me tell you that I ambushed her padwan," he said, "but I'm full. If I eat another bite, I'm going to explode."

To his own surprise, Eeth had to smile a little at that. It was a brief and small smile, but it was there and his was his second smile that evening which was unprecedented! Lakhri gave him a broad grin in return.

"Thanks, master," he said. "This was really awesome. You didn't have to do this."

"I know I did not have to do this," Eeth replied with dignity. "I wanted to, however. I am glad you enjoyed it."

From then on, whenever he felt that Lakhri deserved a reward, he took him out dining. In the course of the years, they tried Corellian, Mansurian, Ap'tha – all the most popular foods of the galaxy. But Careenian always remained Lakhri's favorite.


End file.
